Operation: Loose Ends

The Blood of betrayal

A/N: Whooooooo guys, new fic!!! XD Operation: Loose Ends is my big love letter to the Modern Warfare series. I freaking love those games, and I was inspired to write as I was forced yet again to watch as Shepherd lit Roach and Ghost ablaze in MW2's campaign mission: Loose Ends. Yes, I'm one of those fans to refuses to admit that they're truly dead. Shhh. XDDD

This book will be significantly shorter than my AC fic. But nevertheless, it'll be written with just as much love as my main book. 

Hope you guys enjoy it!! <3

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"(y/n)..." a soft, deep voice coaxed me out of dreamland. And ohh, even though I really wasn't a morning person, I could never be mad at the wonderful man whose heavenly voice was whispering sweet nothings into my ears. Unable to prevent a smile from painting my lips, I turned around and curled close to him, resting my head on his toned chest. "Mornin', love..." he breathed out softly against my ear once more, his large fingers gently pulling a few strands away from my face. And opening my eyes, oh...there he was...those gentle brown eyes, that dark hair I loved to caress so much...and those lips...

"Simon..." I couldn't help but breathe out blissfully as I reached up to gently caress his cheek. It was such a shame that he constantly hid this beautiful face. But hey, at least I got to enjoy it all to myself. I pretty much melted into his arms as he reached out and planted a gentle, yet passionate kiss upon my lips. My husband...my wonderful husband...so many countless missions pulled us apart, yet he'd always come back to this house...to our bed...for me. Our promise. Our most sacred vow. "I love you..." I gently breathed out against his lips. Everything was doing so great, but then...the thunderous sound of machine guns and explosions shook us out of our reverie. We dashed out of bed, but we couldn't escape from the rain of glass and wood splinters as our bedroom wall was suddenly blown to smithereens.

"Wake up, (y/n)!!" Simon yelled out from the other side of the room as he lunged for the pistol we always had as backup in our nightstand. "Wake u-" I managed to grab my gun, but all I was able to see as I turned around, was my beloved husband collapse to the ground with a bullet wound to his heart. No, no....

"NOOO!!" I screamed as I jolted myself awake. I looked around the room in a panic, reaching out, even, to the M1911 I had stored away in my nightstand drawer. But as I scanned the room with my pistol, I realized, it was all just a nightmare. Another bloody fucking nightmare...The curtains were closed; the bedroom wall was intact...and my husband was nowhere in sight. I let out a soft sigh of relief as I put the gun down, my free hand gently caressing the spot where he'd usually be, the sheets now cold, and the bed...too damn big. Of course he was still away...his mission was not yet complete. Makarov was still alive and kicking. Looking over at the clock over on my nightstand, I saw, with utmost dismay, that it wasn't even 6 AM yet. Fuck it, I thought as I kicked the sheets aside. I wasn't gonna sleep anymore anyways, so...might as well get up. I put my M1911 back into its drawer. I then reached out to grab my robe, before at long last, I made my way down the stairs and towards the living room.

It was a nice, quiet day, today. And already, the air felt hot and unbearable. Yep. That was August for you. In another world, I would've just been able to lay back in the couch and do a movie marathon like I usually did. But I couldn't rest. Because I, well...I was a teacher. I fought my own battles with the Educational system so that the next generations might have a better shot in life than we did. I liked to believe that I wasn't hammering intel into their heads. Only, I was opening their eyes to a whole new perspective. It was only up to them to pick up on where I left off to keep researching. It was, after all, a teacher's job to spark their students' curiosity and thirst for knowledge. And well...I could only blame my boss for assigning me to a summer class. But I didn't really mind it. The kids were a delight to work with. Bright, easy-going and always eager to learn. The model students, really. I couldn't help a light smile from painting my lips as I began to make a cup of coffee, in a vain attempt of shaking the remnants of that nightmare away from my thoughts. But of course, nothing was easy when photos of him were framed all over the house. Our honeymoon, our friends...photos I was able to snap of us while he wasn't looking...and of course, right next to the TV...a picture of Task Force 141. A picture Simon brought home a couple of years ago, as he returned from a failed mission to kill Makarov in 2013. Code mission: Kingfish. Captain John "Soap" MacTavish. Captain John Price. Sergeant Gary "Roach" Sanderson. And finally, my gaze softened as I picked up that photo with my free hand. Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley. My beloved husband. They were like family to me. Although, unfortunately, I was never able to actually meet Captain Price in person. Simon and I got married after his passing. And well...I was never really quite able to meet the man beforehand.